


Strangeness, Charm, And Other Quirks (FISH BOY AND THE FRISBEE OF DEATH)

by Not_You



Series: The Zen And Art Of Getting Naked To Music [5]
Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Namor the Sub-Mariner (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Everything is Reed's Fault, F/M, Jealousy, Light Bondage, Meet-Cute, Non-Penetrative Sex Toys, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Polyamory Negotiations, Strength Kink, Vibrators, Voyeurism, namor is crushing harder than a twelve-year-old girl, threesomes with married couples rock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3843637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman meets Sue in the park and dies a little inside to learn that she's married to some old physics professor who sometimes ignores her.</p><p>(And then he begins to understand the appeal, and the Richards-Storm marriage turns out to be open.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Roman is not at all prone to falling in love. He's glad of that, because when he does, it consumes him. The memory of what he once felt for Byrrah is still a little painful, and he had hardly been more than a child then. Some call him cold-natured, but what he is trying to do is to keep from bursting into flame. For years he has guarded his stupid, passionate heart, but now it's all for nothing. He's flat on his back in the grass, helpless and enraptured by this woman.

"Are you all right?" She asks, and usually Roman favors deep, purring voices in women, but her high, soft tones like little bells are enchanting. The afternoon sun turns her blonde hair into a bright halo and the shape of her shoulders is so perfect it makes him want to cry. If he were one of his forefathers in the ancient days he would demand her hand in marriage, or at least the right to court her. As it is he's at something of a loss, and only becomes more so as he slowly sits up.

"...Hello," is the best he can manage, still wheezing a bit. He jogs at a fairly fast pace, and skidding on someone's discarded Frisbee to land flat on his back is more than enough to remind him of why he swims so much more often.

"Some people," she says, picking it up and sounding so fiercely disapproving that it makes his heart flutter. "This thing is a death trap! I was afraid you were really hurt."

"I'm not," he says softly, trying to dial his stupid infatuation back. "Thank you." Upright and no longer half-blinded by sun, he can see that she's wearing a blue dress with leggings and a pair of little ballet flats, a marked contrast to his own green shorts and barefoot shoes, his t-shirt looped around his neck like a scarf.

She laughs softly, noticing his gaze. "I'm just here to wander around and think between classes. Are you really all right?"

"Fine," he says, standing and stretching to prove it. Roman is used to being looked at. He was a pretty child and things have only intensified since puberty, to say nothing of his current job. The way her calm, friendly gaze is flustering him is proof that it's already hopeless. Doubly hopeless, as he pulls his shirt back on and a flash from her left hand draws his eye to a small diamond engagement ring and a gold wedding band. Of course. It's ludicrous to think that no one else has noticed her perfection. "Thanks again for your concern," he says, offering her a hand up. "Walk with me for a moment?"

"Sure," she says, and falls into step with him, tucking the Frisbee into a low branch of the first tree they pass. "So, what's your name?"

"Roman McKenzie. Yours?"

"Sue Storm." She reaches across herself to shake his hand. Unlike a lot of people in America, she doesn't say anything about him not 'looking Irish,' and her touch is petal-soft. He does his best not to shiver.

"You said you were between classes?"

"Yes, Reed and I both work at the university." She teaches drama, and Reed ('the undeserving bastard,' snarls something primordial deep inside him) teaches one post-graduate-level physics class and spends the rest of his time holed up in his lab. Too much time, she says, but fondly. "Reed is a very remarkable man, in many ways," she says, musing as they walk down the path together. "He's definitely the most intelligent person I've ever met, but in that STEM-heavy, 'not good at small talk' way, you know?"

"I've known guys like that," Roman says. They can be sort of cute, but usually aren't worth the trouble.

She laughs. "I guess I met him so young that I'm used to him? I was only seventeen, we were both staying with my aunt."

"Seventeen?" Roman tries not to raise an eyebrow and fails.

"Oh, no," she says, almost playfully. "I just had a crush that never really went away. I'm not positive he knew I was there until I was twenty-two or so."


	2. Chapter 2

One of the nice things about Reed's odd temperment is that he doesn't really get jealous. He misses her when she has been away too long and is hurt when she doesn't have time to listen to his theories, but he's happy to hear about her new friend Roman. It doesn't matter that he's exactly twelve years and one day younger than Reed, that he's in stunning physical shape, or that he actually works as a model. Some women would be insulted, but this is one of the things Sue loves about Reed. She tells him so, settling into his lap and pressing a kiss to one grey temple.

"...Why would I mind?" he asks, and she just laughs, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"No reason, my darling strange quark."

"My charm quark," he says, hugging her and nuzzling his face into the shoulder of her dress, which is one of his favorites for its texture alone. "Speaking of quarks..." he adds, and she chuckles, readying her mind to attempt to cope with subatomic physics. Everything about Reed's work that she can actually understand is fascinating, and he says that her perspective as someone outside the field can be invaluable.

Roman is one of the most obviously gorgeous people Sue has ever met, but the actual attraction creeps up on her. There's the obvious part where she can almost hear her reptile brain computing shoulder-to-waist ratio and licking its chops, but that has never meant as much to her as it does to other people. What gets to her is watching him open up. She hadn't known him long before realizing that with other people he has a cool reserve that reminds her of her own blue-blood ancestors. He's gracious and polite, but not at all confiding of familiar. Behind the reserve he's moody, subject to quiet spells where he draws in on himself to think what seem to be very dark thoughts, and little flights of irritation.

But usually, when it's just the two of them walking in the park or swimming laps in adjacent lanes and then going to the coffee shop afterward, Roman's brooding gives way to flashes of disarming sweetness. He tells her about his beloved mother, illegitimate granddaughter of extremely minor Saudi royalty, and his opulent and somewhat isolated childhood with her father's people, the semi-nomadic Atlanteans.

"We are connected to the sunken city of Atlantis by legend," he says, taking a sip of Japanese green tea, "but I don't believe it." Sue chuckles, blowing on her near-boiling chai. "In reality we're probably most closely related to the Roma, but it's hard to say." He smiles softly, and the expression changes his whole face the way it always does, making his sea-green eyes light up. Sue feels something almost painful in her chest, and that alarms her more than any heat lower down. Attractive is one thing, and this is another entirely. It's much more important.

That night Reed is late getting home, and a text to warn her is only cold comfort, which is why finds her sitting on the couch in her pajamas and drinking red wine. "...Are you upset?" he asks, sounding like a child who is pretty sure he is in trouble and is desperately trying to remember any recent transgressions.

"No, sweetheart," she says, reaching out to him. 

He sets his bag down and hugs her. "Okay. You said you wouldn't be upset if I at least sent you a text."

"Poor baby," she says, laughing softly and kissing his cheek. "No, you're not in trouble. I just wanted to talk to you and got a little lonely. Want some wine? It's about feelings."

"Hm. I should probably remain cognitively unimpaired, at least at first."

"Suit yourself." She takes another sip as Reed gets out of his blazer and pulls off his belt and his tie. "So, do you remember that talk we had about being open?"

"I do remember," he says, and she's not surprised, since Reed's power of recall is ridiculous.

"Well, how do you feel about that idea now?"

"If you want to have sex with Roman that's okay, but I want to meet him first."

Sue laughs, almost choking on her wine. "Reed, this is why I love you. Are you sure?"

"I think so."

"I really like him, you know. It wouldn't just be about the sex."

"...Of course you like him." He looks at her like she has pointed out that triangles tend to have three sides, and that just makes her laugh harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just made the lost city Atlantis like it is in real life, since it's mythic enough that even if these Atlanteans set up an Atlantis of their own that there wouldn't be much confusion.


	3. Chapter 3

Reed does not like meeting new people. But Roman isn't entirely new, filtered through Sue's conversation, and they're going to his favorite restaurant in recognition of his efforts in being social. He makes an outfit the way Sue showed him, matching the numerical tags she has put on his casual clothes. He's all right with the suits he wears to work. Each of those is a complete set, already put together by someone who knows which colors go with which. Reed's actual color vision is fine, but everyone in his life, not just women, have said he's hopeless. Apparently blue and green don't go together, despite almost being the same color, and pink and grey do, even if they look like a human brain dissection and make him a little sick.

After some deliberation he assembles jeans, a t-shirt, and a blazer, and goes to find Sue. Sue knows how these things work and is already waiting for him. Her dress is pink, the one she worries about being 'too young' for her. As far as Reed is concerned it looks great, and he tells her so the way he always does. She smiles, standing in her impractical shoes and taking his arm. "Ready?"

"I think so," he says, and they're on their way. Driving in the city makes Reed feel like his own major organs are trying to flee in every direction and Sue tends to sympathize, so they take a cab. Sue talks nicely to the driver about the things regular people talk about. Some controversial ad campaign that Reed hasn't even noticed for a movie he has never heard of, and the unseasonable warmth and the driver's sister's adorable cat. Reed keeps quiet, and works on an equation that has been bothering him until they pull up in front of their destination. He thanks the driver because that's what he's supposed to do, and waits for Sue to actually pay the fare and choose the right amount of tip. He makes more of their money, but Sue is better at figuring out who to give it to.

One of the many things Reed likes about this place its dim lighting. He gets enough bright, blasting light in the lab, he doesn't need it when he's trying to eat. Sue has reserved the corner booth, and they're a little early so Reed can wedge himself into the corner facing the door and read over the entire menu the way he likes to. It never changes much, but the ritual soothes him. Sue orders a cocktail and a pitcher of water and lets him get on with it. There's a reason he sometimes calls her his gracious silence despite not even liking the play that much.

"Having your usual?" she asks.

"No, it's too warm." Pho is a winter dish, after all, and it _is_ unseasonably hot out.

They're debating the merits of various appetizers and whether or not a whole curried crab is too complicated to be worth the trouble when Roman arrives. He is in fact extremely good-looking in a way that makes Reed think of the word 'Byronic' and wonder if it's appropriate, and he has a kind of haughty aspect that cracks right down the middle when the hostess leads him over and Sue smiles at him. He also doesn't do anything weird when Reed shakes his hand, which is good. Handshakes are strange enough without people gripping too hard or being all sweaty or trying to involve Reed in some complex choreography he doesn't know. Roman just grips his hand for a moment and then lets go. He's very strong, but doesn't try to crush him, and that's a point in his favor.

A point against Roman is how irritatingly hard it is to pin down the actual source of his annoyance. Sue pays equal attention to him, so he's not jealous. He actually likes watching her watch Roman while he talks about fashion or demonstrates the most elegant and efficient way to take apart a whole crab, so he's troubled as they part ways, thinking about this instead of his equation on the way home.

"Baby?" Sue asks softly, after they've been home again for a silent hour and she has exchanged her dress for a bathrobe, all her makeup scrubbed off. She sounds timid enough to alarm him.

He blinks, looking up from the article he's not really reading on his tablet. "Yes?"

"You're not mad, are you?"

He sighs. "Yes, but not at you. Something about Roman bothers me, and it bothers me more that I don't know what it is."

And he doesn't know what it is, until he's waiting for some results in the lab the next day, and remembers his own bisexuality, so irrelevant to his life for so long. Roman is more than theoretically attractive, and that's the problem. He texts Sue in the happy consciousness of a problem solved.


	4. Chapter 4

Having met the husband, Roman sort of understands the appeal. He seems shy, and extremely pensive. The premature grey only adds to it, and all through dinner Roman couldn't quite quell the urge to smooth out the thoughtful and slightly pained wrinkle between Reed's eyes. And he's not jealous of Sue, trusting her to conduct herself as a woman of honor. Sitting at the makeup counter and lining his eyes before work, he wonders if he can trust himself. He and Sue have gotten closer than ever lately, and she just gets more beautiful the longer he knows her.

He sighs, and Peter slips into the seat beside him, setting his own cosmetic bag on the counter. "Thinking deep thoughts?"

Peter can be obnoxious, but he's good-hearted enough that Roman doesn't squash him like the spider he so often resembles. "For a given value of 'deep,' perhaps. Yourself?"

Peter grins, dark eyes shining, his hair looking fluffy and a shade lighter without product. "I'm thinking there's ladies in the club!"

Roman chuckles. The silly, boyish delight and trepidation of his fellow bisexuals and Steve whenever women show up is sort of cute. "I do appreciate the novelty," he says, leaning close to the mirror to make sure that all three colors of eye liner are blended just so. Seafoam to bring out the color, silver for brightness and black for contrast.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, nothing makes you nervous." Peter rolls his eyes, and then stills them to apply heavy black liner. Roman sighs, watching him.

"Let me help you with that." It isn't a request, and Peter knows it, handing the pencil to Roman. They have had arguments about this but Peter has at last acknowledged that he looks hotter when Roman helps. Even Flash agrees. There really is something to be said for Peter's jagged and waifish charm, and Roman smiles at him when he's done. "There. Devastating."

"Thanks," Peter says, and bounces up change out of his street clothes. Roman puts on his own ensemble, and maybe does arrange it with a little more care, because women notice these things. He favors white and silver, crisp, dazzling colors that fling back the light, with a few prismatic sequins for punctuation. He's first on the main stage tonight, with Peter coming on after him. He watches the tail end of Sam's big solo, and then stalks out to wipe the pole to the opening audio clip from 'Highlander.' SHIELD is the only club to ever let him keep that bit in when they edit for length. It helps him get into the mood, and Kurgan growling, "I know his name," is the perfect cue to hurl the wipe aside and get started.

He doesn't actually get a good look at his audience until he has his shirt most of the way off and has whipped it once against the stage. He glances up and his heart nearly stops, because Sue is sitting at a center table with a great view of the action. There are are two courses open to him at this point. He can either panic, stiffen up, and stumble around like a fool, or fling himself into his performance. He chooses the second. The song is bombastic to the point of violence, and Roman rises to meet it, earning the usual whoops and cheers but with no eyes for anyone but Sue. She's flushed and staring, and he wishes he knew the proportions of embarrassment and lust in her expression, because both are there.

By the time the song is over, all the weirdness in the middle clipped, he has at least proved to her that he can be graceful, and to himself that he can work a brass monkey into this routine without killing himself. He should be satisfied with that, but when he finally relinquishes the stage to prowl the floor he's wondering if she resents his lie of omission (he has modeled clothing in the past and currently poses for art classes, making him guilty of no positive falsehood,) or if she thinks he's ridiculous. People have told him that he's hot when he's brooding, and he books enough dances in the next few minutes to wonder if it's true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roman is a dork:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vf4UhPuwoGE


	5. Chapter 5

Sue had wondered if 'modeling' was some kind of euphemism, and now she knows. She peels her tongue off the roof of her mouth, and tries to sort out how much of what she's feeling is secondhand embarrassment, how much is lust, and how much is pure fondness because of course Roman is the kind of dork to dance to the Highlander soundtrack.

"Wow," is what she says, and Jean-Paul laughs.

“A bit corny, perhaps, but excellent form.”

Kyle just rolls his eyes, making a comic pretense of not having heard. “What's that, baby? You want to get another lap dance from him?”

“Perhaps,” Jean-Paul admits, putting his arm around his husband and kissing him softly. Sometimes Sue brings Reed to make a real double date, but he doesn't really like any kind of club setting. With Reed they attend lectures and explore botanical gardens and secondhand bookshops, quiet, easeful places without too much going on at once. He would hate SHIELD, with its pounding music and bright stage lights, even if he probably would have enjoyed Roman's dance, as would most people with a pulse and any attraction to men.

“How does he make a sequined thong look so... not-drag?” Sue asks, sipping her drink as a youthful, gangly type takes the stage. He's acrobatic and angular, with heavy eyeliner and dark hair in wild spikes. His persona is like some kind of predatory schoolboy, and Sue can appreciate that.

“I think it's in the cut and color choices,” Kyle says, and Jean-Paul glances at another table and winces.

“My god, poor old Connors is here again.”

Sue looks to the side without turning her head and sure enough, there's Connors, sitting in the back dressed like someone's weird uncle on his way to expose himself to old ladies at the bus stop. She sighs. Ever since he and Martha divorced the whole faculty have been quietly fretting about him. He gets more faded every year, quieter, and more self-effacing. To find him down here shrouded in a trench coat and an actual fucking slouch hat to watch some kid young enough to be his son do pole tricks like it's the only thing going on anywhere in the universe is more than a little depressing.

“I guess he's worse off than I thought,” she says, touched by the longing on Connors's kindly, bookish old face. He's really not much older than Reed, who acts and looks at least ten years over his real age, and it shocks her a little to remember that now.

“He needs a man before he dries up and blows away,” Jean-Paul says, flagging down a waiter to get the next round. “If I were here alone I would send him a drink.” Jean-Paul is actually a faculty husband, and could do something like that without risking severe workplace awkwardness. As it is, Sue and Kyle just nod dismally.

Roman is prowling the floor like a panther, (and damn the cliché it's _perfectly_ accurate) and his sequins catch her eye as he steps onto a table a few down from their own. The boy onstage has picked the song, as is SHIELD's wont, and it's 'Pretty Vacant' by the Sex Pistols. A little loose for Roman, perhaps, but he's making the best of it. A very good best. Sue stares, captivated and only partially shaken out of it when Jean-Paul laughs at her.

“Shall I buy you a dance, instead?” he teases, and Sue blushes. She has never really been into lap-dances, and is entirely too genuinely interested in Roman to feel comfortable with one now. 

“Hush, Jean-Paul,” she and Kyle say at the same time, and all three of them laugh.

She may not buy a dance, but she does flag Roman down as he passes their table, sequins glittering and muscles gleaming. “Hey, sailor,” she says, giving him her best no-I-don't-care-that-you're-a-stripper smile. “Buy you a drink?”

He studies her for a moment, with those incredible eyes, almost too far apart and a silvery blue-green she has never seen on anyone else, and then nods. It's a regal gesture, full of the gracious reserve of royalty. He takes the empty seat beside her, utterly comfortable in his flawless, golden skin. Sue is filled with the sudden urge to touch him because he's near and mostly naked and not performing, but doesn't quite know how. Instead she flags down a waiter and lets Roman order for himself. Every other time they drink together he gets a Bloody Caesar, because he's gross. Apparently he doesn't want to breathe Clamato on the clientele, though, asking for a daiquiri instead, specifying, “the real kind,” because of course he likes them the way JFK and Hemingway did. He's on the clock and can't hang around with her all night, but Sue makes sure to invite him to brunch with Reed, and gives him a lingering hug and a kiss on the cheek that actually make him blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty Vacant: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VcauCclfytI
> 
> The classic daiquiri is just crushed ice, sugar, lime, and rum. I spent more time than it deserves agonizing over what Namor The Sub-Mariner would drink. Strangely, what music Namor The Sub-Mariner would strip to was _way_ easier.


	6. Chapter 6

Reed likes brunch. He enjoys most of the dishes and it tends to be a calm sort of occasion despite the champagne. This one is particularly special, though, so he can't help but be tense as he arranges sliced fruit. They're hosting Roman, of course. Asking a man to have sex with your wife and perhaps yourself is nothing for a restaurant, and so making the food perfect is Reed's responsibility. He makes an irritated noise as a peach slice slips, and Sue puts her hands on his shoulders from behind.

“It's lovely, dear,” she says, and unlike a lot of people she's not making fun of him. He relaxes, nudging the peach a little and then giving up and letting Sue hug him. She's wearing one of her simplest dresses, and it has a smooth, cool texture that he likes a lot. He takes a handful of the skirt and holds it for a moment before turning around and hugging Sue like a normal person. He does like it. She's soft and smells good and her resting heart rate is very pleasing, it's just a little much. She understands, though, and looks up at him, smiling. “I love you, Reed.”

He loves her too and even manages to say so, but then there's a soft knock on the door that makes Reed jump. The bell was way worse before they unhooked it, though, and he's calm again in seconds. Or as calm as he can be with Roman waiting outside. Sue kisses him softly, and then goes to answer the door, looking through the peephole first because she knows it makes Reed nervous when she doesn't. Her smile tells him what he really needs to know, and she opens the door to greet Roman with a kiss on the cheek. His eyes flick to Reed as she does, and Reed is a bit touched to realize that Roman cares what he thinks about it. Reed smiles at him, because that reassures people, and after a tiny pause, Roman smiles back, and produces a bottle of champagne from his bag.

“My grandfather gave me a few of these before I left for America,” Roman says as Sue stares at the label.

“Wow,” she says. “If Reed hadn't put the food together I'd worry about it being a worthy accompaniment.” She smiles at Roman and takes his arm, leading him to the table as she explains their available options. Reed has membraned citrus fruits, sliced peaches and strawberries, made bacon as well as crisping lean ham in case Roman won't eat the bacon, and has batter standing ready for waffles and pancakes. There's also a green salad and quiche because Sue has said that Roman likes both of these things.

“How beautiful,” he says softly, and turns a long, searching look on Reed. 

Reed looks back at him for a long moment and then remembers to say, “Thank you.” That's nearing the end of his present capabilities, and he sits down, rattled. Sue picks up the slack the way she does, and soon Roman is sitting at their kitchen table as if he does this all the time. Sue's aunt had said she would grow up to be a truly gracious hostess, and she had been right about that and her prediction that Sue would scheme her way into marrying him when she was old enough. Now she pours their champagne and starts the waffle iron and talks to Roman like a normal person. Reed just sips his wine and watches Roman watch Sue. He supposes other men would be angry at the way he looks at her. It's full of interest and longing, but both are respectful.

Reed isn't a violent person, but he always wants to hurt men who look at Sue like a thing instead of a person. There are a lot of them, because she's small and soft and blonde, but Roman seems to understand. He can even talk with her about her students, and that's wonderful because Reed can never remember their names. He remembers stories about them and who plays which role in any given production, but Roman remembers names, and which girl is the one whose mother breeds Chihuahuas.


	7. Chapter 7

Roman isn't entirely positive why he's here, but Reed seems calm enough even though Sue has barely stopped touching him since she let him in. Just little ones, her hands on his forearms, fingertips against the side of his face for a moment, but each contact seems to strike a spark against his skin, and Reed's cool blue eyes only make it worse. Where Sue's are nearly violet, Reed's are closer to grey, almost the color of non-glacier ice. Roman is filled with a sudden urge to see them together, Sue's clear pink and white skin on Reed's sallower tones. He finishes his second glass of champagne, and tries not to blush. They're onto what he brought, and while no decent wine should be swilled, this deserves particular respect.

“Now that we've gotten some waffles under our belts,” Sue says, “I suppose I should tell you that I invited you here to ask you something.”

“...Oh?” The atmosphere has been humming with expectation, but Roman had thought that was just him.

Sue take his hand and laughs, blushing as she strokes her thumb over the back of his hand. It's embarrassing how much this tiny touch affects him, and he does his best not to stare at their joined hands like an idiot. “Well, we agreed that our marriage would be open if either of us was ever interested in anyone else.”

Roman manages to keep his jaw from dropping, but he can't be sure about anything else. “You did?”

“We did,” she says, “and I... both of us, actually, find you very interesting.”

Roman's heart pounds in his ears as he tries to think of something to say and not to crush Sue's hand in his surprise. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Reed speaks. “I am not required,” he says, and there's something so gentle and genuine about his awkward attempt to keep from pressuring Roman into anything that it touches Roman's heart.

“Thank you,” he says to Reed, and then looks to Sue again. “It's more than interest with me. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Sue says, and kisses his hand. He bites back some disproportionately loud and desperate sound, trembling at her touch.

“Sue...”

“Take your time to think,” she says, releasing him and looking a little guilty.

“No,” he says, and catches her hand, lacing their fingers together. “What if I don't want to take my time?”

“...Then I suppose the three of us can go to the bedroom together, because we're all adults. Reed wants to watch even if you don't want to touch, is that all right?”

He glances over at Reed, who looks... it's hard to place his expression. It's carefully blank, hiding what looks like a mixture of excitement and nerves. Roman smiles at him and then looks back to Sue. “That's all right.”

They get the dishes rinsed and then take the champagne back to the bedroom. The entire apartment is done in blue and white, and somehow doesn't feel like a hospital. It's soothing and airy instead, and the bedroom is the same, bed neatly made with a blue cover patterned with white clouds. It's kind of juvenile, but in an endearing way, and it's very soft and comfortable when Roman sits down on it. Reed joins him and Sue chuckles, unbuttoning the top of her dress. “I hope the professional doesn't judge me too harshly,” she coos, and Roman tries to laugh, a little too consumed by watching her.

“I find that there's no wrong way for a beautiful woman to remove her clothing,” he says, sounding hoarse to his own ears, and she shivers, the dress rustling as she carefully wriggles out of it. Her soft white skin is just blushed with pink, and she smiles at them both as she unhooks her bra. It's a frothy white confection of lace and it suits her beautifully, not that it doesn't look much better off. Roman feels very stupid in a very American away to be so eager to see breasts, but these are _Sue's_ breasts, and each one is a perfect, pert handful, with creamy skin and large, dark pink nipples. He reaches out for her unconsciously, and she giggles, coming to sit sideways in his lap, her arms around his neck. He growls and gathers her close, hands just feeling the cool, silky skin of her back as she kisses him on the mouth at long last, hard nipples pressing against his chest.


	8. Chapter 8

Roman is so strong that it makes Sue tremble. He holds her like a pet, like she weighs nothing, and he looks at her the way Reed does sometimes, like she's a descended goddess, or the only woman on earth. It's kind of scary, to see herself so precious in someone's eyes, but intoxicating, too. She gets her hands under his shirt and pushes it up, unveiling all that flawless skin inch by inch. He's quiet and attentive, and raises his arms to let her pull it off over his head. She passes it to Reed, who holds it to his face as he watches them, long nose and blue eyes visible over the black fabric.

“Beautiful,” Sue says softly. She really means both of them, kisses Roman again and whimpers at the way his arms tighten around her in response. He makes a low, rumbling noise in his chest that barely sounds human, and she shifts to straddle him, pressing even closer and pushing her tongue into his mouth. He kisses like he wants to consume her and makes a small, desperate noise into her mouth when she starts grinding a little against his belly. He murmurs something in a language she has never heard, his hands slipping down to squeeze her ass in a way that feels weirdly reverent. “I'm glad you're having a good time,” she coos, and glances over at Reed to see how he's doing.

Reed has a particular way of looking at things that fascinate him. It was one of the first things that had drawn Sue to him in her youth, and now she moans because he's got that look on his face now. His eyes get almost feverishly bright, and his mouth tightens up like he's holding back a question and he leans forward just the slightest bit, a huge deviation from his usual posture, which is so straight it looks like parade rest. She can feel herself blushing again, and moans as Roman bites her neck, his teeth feeling clean and sharp against her skin. She closes her eyes and sinks into the touch, letting every little nameless noise fall out of her mouth in its own time as Roman sucks and kisses and bites at her neck and her breasts and her shoulders, mumbling soft and awestruck phrases in what she guesses is Atlantean. She's going to ask him for a translation and then he sucks one nipple into his mouth and gets to work on making her forget how to talk. 

He stays there for a long time, switching sides and moaning happily. She laces her fingers into his hair and holds on. The panties are washable, thank god, because they're soaked now. She's leaving a damp patch on Roman's perfect abs and she can feel how hard he is against her ass. Nice and thick, if not as long as Reed. She wriggles just to feel the way it makes him tense and quiver. He raises his head to look into her eyes, expression full of pleading.

“Don't worry,” she says, stroking his hair as much to feel how strong and silky it is as to soothe him, “we won't blue ball you.”

“Such a vulgar expression,” Reed says, sounding quietly disappointed and so schoolmarmish that Sue has to cling to Roman to keep from falling out of his lap laughing. Roman grins at her, looking so enchanted that it sobers her up and she kisses him again.

“I'm glad you like my husband,” she says, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“You chose him,” Roman says. “It's a very strong recommendation.”

“I know this is all very sudden,” Reed says, and then grimaces, “and hypocritical, since I hate sudden things, but may we tie you up?”

Sue sighs. “Oh, _Reed_.” Reed is very caring and conscientious, and much more of a bondage top than a true dom, but they can't expect poor Roman to know that. He's still under her, but not frozen in horror, at least.

“...Just my hands,” he says, and Reed beams at him. Sue blinks, but Roman presumably knows his own mind. She shifts off of him, stepping out of her panties as Roman slithers out of his jeans, lowering them to the floor so his heavy belt won't resound like the crack of doom. Reed twists his hands up into Roman's shirt, gaze flicking between them like he can't even begin to make up his mind about which of them to watch.


	9. Chapter 9

Reed feels like he's being rewarded for bad behavior, but can't bring himself to care. His rudeness has led to Roman lying naked in his bed, powerful arms bound to the headboard. Since it's a surprise, Reed is being extra gentle. Sue has moods where she's willing to play along but wants to be sure she can get herself free, so they're using the dark orange silk loops. They have four pairs that came in a package together, and these are Sue's least favorite color so she won't be upset if Roman breaks them. Silk has a higher tensile strength than people expect, but Roman is probably strong enough to break it. 

Reed can't say that tying people up _isn't_ a dominance thing, but for him the main attraction is being able to explore someone without them distracting him. Through some glitch in his own programming, Reed can really either give or receive. Things like sixty-nining can actually be upsetting, with so many strange angles and so much simultaneous input and movement. This is much better. Roman tugs at the loops a bit as Sue kisses him, and Reed smiles, running his hands all over that beautiful skin. Roman is soft gold all over, and doesn't just shave his long legs. 

Reed likes the aesthetic of hairless genitals on adults, the clean lines and the impossibly smooth skin. He and Sue use an improvement on Nair that he mixed one long-ago summer for something to do, but Roman has done very well with his preferred method. He still has his foreskin, too, and Reed leans in close to see it, to watch it react to the way Roman's erection barely twitches with each heartbeat. It's a relatively thick one, long enough that it more than covered the entire head when Roman was flaccid, and so very soft that Reed has to just feel it for a long moment while he pants and kisses Sue, breaking into a light sweat. He groans, muffled by her mouth, and then pulls away to look down at Reed, eyes wide and bright and wild in a way that Reed already knows he wants to see more of.

“Reed, darling,” Sue says, “I think Roman needs to come.”

“I could last longer,” Roman replies, sounding only a little breathless, “but I don't particularly want to.”

Sue giggles and Reed smiles. “I think we can see our way to that,” he says. “Sue, condom.”

“Yes, sir!” she chirps, still giggling. She fetches it quickly, though, along with disinfectant wipes for Reed's hands where there's precome on them. He likes the chem lab style arcana of of wipes and a drop of lube into the condom and then rolling the slick, delicate polymer over Roman. Reed helped force-test the material, and he's pleased by the way it goes on now. 

“And now?” Roman asks, gazing up at both of them. Reed answers him by guiding Sue's head down onto him. He's firm, but of course he'd let her pull away if she wanted. But once she realizes where he's maneuvering her she scrambles into position, moaning happily as she wraps her lips around the head of Roman's cock and lets Reed push her down. Roman makes a sound that would be a wail if it had any strength to it, and stares down at Sue like he has never seen anything like her before. Reed knows the feeling. He smiles at Roman, gives Sue an affectionate pat, and then gets up to find his favorite of Sue's vibrators, a lovely over-sized wireless bullet, self-contained and smooth. Roman spares him a glance, and Reed smiles again, stopping to kiss him first. He had sort of forgotten to before, and now takes a long moment to just learn Roman's lips, backing off when he tries to get his tongue into Reed's mouth.

“I need a little more time to enjoy that,” he says, “and I don't feel like taking it just now.”

“Okay,” Roman grumbles, and then goes slack-jawed as Sue does some small, devastating thing. Reed chuckles and kisses him a little more before settling beside Sue and switching the vibrator on and sliding his hand under her raised hips. She keens through her nose at the first touch, and Roman tugs at the loops again and groans deep in his chest. Reed enjoys the feedback loop created by their reactions for a while, but at last cranks the bullet up to maximum, making Sue groan and redouble her efforts. Roman wails something in Atlantean and comes hard enough to break the right-hand loop. No matter, Reed planned for this contingency. Sue groans and bucks on his hand for a long time as Roman whimpers and relaxes. It's hard to tell when she has two in quick succession, sometimes, and this is on the borderline between a long single climax or a short double. Satisfaction is more important, and Sue is utterly limp, panting, her head pillowed on Roman's body as she catches her breath, little jolts and twitches running through her legs. Reed smiles, and kisses the nape of her neck.

“May I fuck you, dearest?”

“Help yourself,” Sue says, and Reed chuckles. He has a tendency to forget about himself until the last minute, and after he plunges into Sue's heat and slickness it hardly takes more than that for him to come, panting harshly and clinging to the sheets and then to Roman's freed hand when he offers it.


End file.
